Expectations
by absolutelynoapologies
Summary: They weren't enemies. They weren't lovers. They weren't even friends. But there must be something in the water at the Capitol for them to act like it. One-shot.


_A/N: Hello! I'm sorry this is pretty rushed and won't make sense. I was just greatly inspired to write it due to a tumblr rp I'm currently in, and I play Marvel and I just got so into it and asdfghjkl. So yeah, hope you enjoy!_

**Expectations**

They weren't enemies. They weren't lovers. They weren't even friends. But there must be something in the water at the Capitol for them to act like it.

Glimmer hadn't even seen him before the Reaping. The only time he ever registered in her mind was when, after a young boy was called, he volunteered. It was standard; he performed the best in the Academy which resulted in them standing next to each other, smiling and blowing kisses to the crowd.

On the train, she'd expected him to talk to her – any other boy would be _thrilled_ to be her district partner – but he kept himself at a distance.

Even with the Capitol only a short distance away, they had their own sleeping quarters which was the first thing Marvel headed to after their mentors Cashmere and Gloss dismissed them. She quickly followed him and was able to catch the door as he was closing it.

"Can I come in?" The soft tone, the coy-yet-provocative pose against the door frame, and looking up at him under her lashes came to her easily. He stared back blankly before simply letting the door go and walking into the quarters he chose. When she walked in and close the door behind her, he turned back to face her and raised a brow.

"Yes?"

She smirked at him, before setting herself on the bed. "Hi, Marvel," His name rolled off her tongue like butter, but unlike most guys, he didn't even flinch.

"What do you want?" She was taken aback by his cold tone, and she righted herself, sitting straight up.

"Why didn't you talk to me?" She decided that being direct was the best solution; she hated 'beating around the bush' anyway.

"Aren't I talking to you now?" He bit back sarcastically, leaning against a door which most likely led to the bathroom. She sighed heavily.

"Yes, but you weren't before. _I_ had to seek you out." He blinked a few times, before he put a hand over his face and laughed.

"You're really self-centered, aren't you?" With that, he waved her off and walked into his bathroom leaving her alone.

* * *

After being plucked bare and skin raw from the washing – though it wasn't too long as they were always relatively clean – and put into their costumes, their mentors were so pleased that they sauntered off to District 2's mentors to pass the time. Their escort wasn't much help, as he simply admired them and boasted to the other escorts how his were always the best.

"A girl could get used to this," Glimmer smiled, saying the words softly to herself. Marvel heard, but didn't want to say anything to the strange girl. He'd rather not encourage her behavior any more.

However, before the chariots pulled away, she clung onto his arm as she smiled at the others, intimidating the other tributes. He stood there, stiff as a statue, with no idea how to react to it. Glimmer laughed, pulled away, and then when the parade began she commanded the spotlight. She expertly flipped her golden hair at the right moments, which went over well with the audience.

Marvel scowled. Well, she certainly had that part down. So he tipped his chin up, oozing confidence, as he smiled and waved to the audience, even winking at a few citizens who immediately fanned themselves.

Out of the corner of his eye, Glimmer narrowed her eyes at him.

* * *

He wasn't fazed at all by the grandeur of their suit unlike Glimmer, even though she lived in the richer part of the district. He guessed she was just attracted to shiny things.

Gloss slung his arm around Marvel's shoulder, saying how he can't wait until the day before the games where the mentors train them, as he wants to test his knife play against his own.

Cashmere and Glimmer fluttered into Glimmer's room where they most likely discuss Glimmer's approach, whereas his was simple – find is strength over District 2's male, Cato, and amplify it. From how he seemed, it would be Marvel's personality. He'd have to woo the audience because that was one thing that he didn't seem capable of – easy enough.

But, of course, they had to make an alliance with them. The Careers always stuck together.

Always.

Gloss follows up by telling him to show off his spear-throwing and only a few choice skills, so he can still have the element of surprise.

And to keep an eye on Glimmer.

"What?" He hissed, so low that Gloss almost didn't hear him.

But they were interrupted when the two girls came back into the living room, arms linked.

"I'm keeping you when you win, by the way," Cashmere grinned to Glimmer, and proceeded to giggle. Gloss groaned, while Marvel just glared, not that Glimmer noticed.

But she did. And he didn't realize it until there was a soft knock on his bedroom door well after it turned dark. He sat up, rubbed his eyes, and muttered a "come in" to whomever it was bothering him.

And that's when she tip-toed in.

"Marvel?"

"What?" He said gruffly, not appreciating her interrupting his sleep. Not that he was getting any, but still. She softly padded over to his bed and sat on the edge, green eyes peering out at him.

"I can't sleep," He rolled his eyes.

"Thanks for telling me." He replied sarcastically, to which she jumped to her feet.

"Why are you so cold to me?"

"Other than the fact that one of us will definitely be dead in two weeks?" It was sharp, it was unnecessary, but who could blame him? Pushing a friendship would just be worse for the both of them.

"Yes. Because I'm pretty sure that had nothing to do with that glare earlier."

He paused at being caught, but immediately brushed it off. "Because Gloss wants me to keep an eye on you. And I'm not your babysitter." Her eyes widened, before she sat back down, her entire body facing him this time.

"You wanna know why I'm here?" She continued despite his silence. "Because they thought we'd make the perfect team. I grab us attention with my looks, and then you hold it down with your personality and skills. I technically barely passed the academy. Everything I can do is mediocre. But because you showed so much promise, they _all_ want you to win. So they gave you a partner who can't do anything to increase your chances." Her voice was breaking by the end of it, and he couldn't blame her.

If you were chosen to become a volunteer, you had no choice. If you didn't, you were killed by your district.

He didn't know what it was – pity? – that had him beckon Glimmer over to him and invited her to sleep with him. She quickly curled under his sheets, and while he expected her back to be to him, she was right at his side, head tucked into his chest.

* * *

He didn't understand her, honestly. At the training center, she'd be all over Cato, running her fingers over his rock-hard arms that were exposed by his sleeveless shirt – expertly chosen by his stylist for maximum intimidation.

But back in the suit, Glimmer would lounge in his room as soon as Cashmere and Gloss were away. She didn't spout to him compliments or shows of her personality like with Cato. Their only real interaction was at night when she'd curl up at his side like that first night.

It only changed after they received their training scores, in which they managed to get the same score: 9.

Apparently, Glimmer wasn't as harmless as she thought.

When they were in his room again, she broke. "I'm good at one weapon. _My body_." She described in detail the encounter, about how after her weapons display failed – in Career terms at least – they yelled at her to strip.

And so she did.

It was about 3am when he felt a faint scratching on his chest.

"Marv," He blinked awake, and even in the darkness he could see the tear tracks on her cheeks. "I know we're not friends in the slightest…but thank you."

He squinted at her. "For?"

"For putting up with me," She sighed, "I annoy Cato. And Clove. And they annoy me. Cashmere is the only one who wants me to be flirty with him, which could help secure our high status in the games even more if he sees me as a valuable object and then you as an ally."

While Marvel was content with letting her do all the talking, he stopped her by resting a hand on her cheek. "You're not an object." Her eyes widened as he began to wipe away some of the dried tears. "You're a person. A very talkative person who has feelings, just like everyone else." She swore that was the most he ever said to her.

She got the vibe that while he did play up the "strong but silent" type around her and the others, it wasn't him. She suspected that his nature would come to play up at the impending interview as a shock to everyone in order to win over the audience.

It comforted her somewhat that he let up that disguise for even just a moment to help calm her. So she did the only thing she knew how to in order to give her thanks.

Her fingers curled around the back of his head and she slowly pressed her lips to his.

And, surprisingly, he kissed her back.

* * *

It was a natural thing, she supposed. That they became somewhat physical with each other. It was the last choice they could really make. They had no say over their interview outfit, and they certainly had no say over the events that tomorrow would bring. While it was highly unlikely, one of them could die tomorrow.

The kissing, the touching was their last reminder that they were human and they had needs before they died. Especially because she hoped it was him. She had no ounce of faith that it would be her.

Sure, she didn't even know him at all, and vice versa, and it was probably something either of them would do with anyone else that was their district partner. But the point was, it was happening with _them_ and it helped calm her frayed nerves.

But as soon as they stepped into the arena, all of whatever they were was over. People would be watching them, and it would be harder to focus on what was important: their lives.

After their appraisal by their mentors over how "_fabulous_" their interviews went and another round of dinner, the two went back to Marvel's room in front of Cashmere, leaving her questions at the door. They acted out of impulse, out of desire for extreme human contact, because while they – especially Marvel – were pretty confident, there was still the thought that one of them, or even both, might die tomorrow. Or the next day. Or never survive the games as a whole.

Now, Glimmer knew this to be true for her, but she was still going to try. After all, she was a career! No matter what they wanted her to be used for, she would give it her all, because while she accepted it she didn't want to die.

And, with nothing akin to love or silly attachments, they spent the night together in a mess of sheets and sweat. It was their only sense of normalcy.

"Marv?" Neither of them knew what time it was, or how much longer they could stay like that, wrapped in each other's arms just for the contact.

"Yeah?"

Glimmer sucked in a breath. "Do you think, if this was different, if we were different, that we could've been happy…together?"

He stared at her bare shoulder for a second, unsure of what to say. When he took longer than expected, she went to sigh, but was cut off when he kissed her forehead gently, the last tender thing he would ever do. "Maybe,"


End file.
